


Self Punishment

by SinnohRemaker



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Illness, Self-Hatred, graphic depictions of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-10 02:12:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15939635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinnohRemaker/pseuds/SinnohRemaker
Summary: Flug is sleep deprived and miserable, and is barely holding it together in order to finish an invention. In his fatigue, he makes a fatal mistake and ruins the invention, which leads to a full blown nervous breakdown. Only Black Hat’s intervention can aide him in his delirious state, and bring his disconsolate mind back to reality.





	1. Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: 
> 
> THE FOLLOWING PIECE OF FICTION CONTAINS AN EXTREMELY GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF SELF HARM. DO NOT READ IF THAT UPSETS YOU, OR YOU ARE SQUEAMISH IN GENERAL.

Shadows fell across Flug’s lab, the darkness and stillness of midnight settling over the manor. Flug sat hunched over an invention, precisely placing wiring within the tiny device. He slipped a hand under his bag to wipe sweat from his brow, then began rubbing at his aching temples. He set his invention down, and pinched the bridge of his nose with both hands, hoping it would clear his head. His usually laser focus was being continually interrupted by his fatigue, and he was starting to go delirious from exhaustion. He was twitching nonstop, and spots were beginning to cloud his vision. His head was throbbing and pulsing with a splitting headache, overwhelming his feeble body with waves of pain. With shaky hands, he grabbed his coffee mug from his work desk, and took a sip of his lukewarm espresso. It tasted bitter and foul, but he didn’t care. As long as it prevented him from collapsing entirely, he would drink it. 

He resumed working on the invention, his screwdriver rattling in his jittery hands as he tried to screw on the aluminum back panel. He was almost finished with the God forsaken contraption, thankfully. Once it was complete, he could finally allow himself to sleep. He held his breath, and flicked a switch on the side of the invention, biting his lip in anticipation as the device started to power on. The small machine began humming and whirring, electricity crackling at its top as it started to fully activate. The device was supposed to create a small orb of energy that floated above it, suspended by electromagnetic force. The orb was meant to be a source of raw power, one that was entirely regenerative and could be drawn from continuously without depleting. 

Unfortunately however, the machine made an unusual popping noise, and then started giving off smoke. It was broken. Flug clenched his fists, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes as he stared at the now useless invention. He then suddenly hurled the invention at the closest wall, a scream bursting from his parched vocal chords as it broke into tiny pieces. The shards of the invention rained down everywhere, causing several vials on his work table to shatter. Chemicals hissed as they were freed from their containers, burning into the wood of his desk and disappearing. Flug slammed his fists down onto the table, the glass cutting into his skin as he wailed hopelessly. He stormed over to his cork board covered in blueprints and tore them all down, ripping the paper into tiny shreds and letting it flutter to the ground. He crouched over and pounded on the floor with his fists, crying hysterically and screaming his throat raw. 

He looked around at the enormous mess he’d created, feeling disgusted with himself. It looked like a tornado had touched down in his lab, and it was all his fault. Why did he have to be such a failure? Black Hat would be beyond infuriated at him for this breakdown, but he didn’t care. He deserved it. Slowly rising to his feet, he trudged back to his work desk and yanked over the drawer where he kept his more dangerous tools. He grabbed his sharpest scalpel in a tight grip, and stormed over to the sink in the corner of the room, an eerie sense of certainty settling over him. He tore off his lab coat and peeled off his gloves, the rubber sticky with sweat as it slid off his hands. He looked at his bare arms, skinny wrists and forearms shaking uncontrollably in his bleary vision. With an ear splitting shriek, he cut an enormous gash just below his palm, breaching a vein and causing blood to spurt everywhere. He watched as red drained into the sink, and then glanced up at his reflection in the mirror. He could see his bloodshot eyes through his googles, and the droplets of blood soaking into his paper bag. He took the scalpel and sliced viciously into his own flesh, cutting jagged lines in even rows across his arm. He was locked within a self destructive frenzy, yelling from the pain and weeping out of disgust with himself. He felt like such a worthless disappointment. He wanted to cut until there wasn’t an inch of healthy flesh, until his arms were nothing but scar tissue. He wanted to bleed out, he wanted to hurt until he blacked out from the agony. He needed to do this. It was the only way he could redeem himself. Dark crimson blood was gushing everywhere, flowing down his arms like a river. He found himself morbidly fixated on the color of his own blood, watching as it splashed into the sink’s basin. He was mesmerized into numbness, blocking his mind from fully registering the searing pain of fresh cuts on his arms. His mind was blank, and his only instinct was to follow his compulsion to continue harming himself. He wanted more. 

Time passed in a hazy blur. In his delirium, he ran the water of the sink over his open wounds, shivering at the slight sting it sent through his body. He then picked up the scalpel and slashed away at his arteries, then found himself struggling with the sudden urge to vomit. He tore off his bag with bloodied hands and puked into the sink, his entire body heaving as he stood there panting. He met the eyes of his reflection in the mirror, and began laughing maniacally. His messy brown hair was standing on end, and his ashy face was gaunt and sickly looking. The red scar tissue that covered his lower jaw seemed incredibly visible against his pale skin, and he despised it. He shifted his hands to his hair and dragged his blood stained hands down his face, the dark crimson spilling onto his cheeks and dripping into his mouth. He licked his lips, and found the metallic taste of blood accompanied by the salty taste of sweat and tears on his tongue. He retched over the sink, then picked up the scalpel with unsteady hands. A laugh caught in his throat as he resumed his crazed self mutilation, cutting deeper and deeper into his arms in a desperate attempt to punish himself for his mistakes.

... 

Black Hat gave a hefty sigh as he poured over his paperwork, eyes glazed over as he wrote on and on. He rested his chin on one of his claws and groaned, shifting in his seat and trying to attain a more comfortable position. He took a deep breath of the stale, musty air in his office, the stench of old books and leather filling his nostrils. However, he caught a whiff of something far more peculiar in the air, something which gave him pause. 

Blood. 

He was all too familiar with the scent of blood, metallic, tangy, and for his kind, sickly sweet and impossible to resist. He loved the taste of it, intermingled with the overpowering fear scent that came along with it. It was positively delectable. Although he did enjoy the scent of blood in his manor, it was rather unusual that he was smelling it now, of all times. There was no one in the mansion’s torture chamber at the moment, and there wasn’t even anyone in the basement dungeon. The only people in the manor where his employees, which meant one of them was hurt. He stifled the slight inkling of worry that swirled in his gut immediately, but still decided to check the security footage. He glanced over the footage of all the empty rooms in the manor, and found nothing out of the ordinary. He rolled his eyes as he saw a clip of 5.0.5 sleeping peacefully in his bed, his entire body curled around a tiny teddy bear. He then switched the view to Demencia’s room, who slept with her gigantic mass of neon green hair drawn over herself like a blanket, snoring as she twitched in her sleep. He then checked the security footage for Flug’s room, and found it to be empty. He raised an eyebrow at this, only to remember that Flug spent the majority of his time locked in his lab, sealed away from the rest of the world. Groaning, he viewed the security footage from the lab, and was greeted with an image of a bagless Flug hunched over the lab’s sink, grievously injured and vomiting into the sink’s basin. 

Of course. 

He must have accidentally hurt himself while working on one of his inventions. He figured he’d have to head up to the lab and make sure the scientist didn’t die from the blood loss, so he began to put his paperwork away. 

Just as he was about to leave, he heard a blaring noise coming from the television he used to view the security footage. 

A scream.

He hurried over to to the screen, and watched as Flug sliced his arm open with a scalpel, gasping for air, voice laced with sobs. He wasn’t sure whether to be horrified or angry, so he decided to go with a mixture of both emotions. Moving as quickly as he could, he dashed up to Flug’s lab and tore open the door, ripping away the deadbolts he used to keep it shut. Flug noticeably jumped, before his arms fell slack at his sides. The scalpel he was using to hurt himself clattered onto the floor.

“Flug!” 

Black Hat shouted, stomping up behind his subordinate.

“Sir...”

Flug rasped, his voice tight with pain.

“Look at me.” 

Black Hat growled, his voice low. Flug slowly turned around, and Black Hat felt his stomach drop. Flug’s bare face was splattered with blood, seeping into his clothes and matting his hair. The fluorescent lights of the laboratory were reflected in his googles, glinting in the lenses and obscuring his eyes. He truly looked like a mad scientist. If only that were someone else’s blood instead of his own.

“What have you done?”

Black Hat asked, unable to mask the shock in his voice. Flug giggled a little bit, a smile creeping across his face.

“I’ve punished myself for you, Jefe.”

He tried to inch closer to Black Hat, but stumbled and nearly fell to the ground. He braced his hand against the sink, forcing himself upright.

“Aren’t you p-proud of me? I saved you the t-trouble of having to scold me.” 

He tried to laugh again, but a hiccup caught in his throat.

“I understand if it’s still n-not enough. I deserve to be p-punished again. You can do whatever you want to me. Just make it h-hurt.”

Black Hat found himself at a loss for words. Flug smiled almost sweetly, then began to creep over to the demon, light on his feet as he moved.

“Aren’t you g-going to punish me, Jefecito?”

Black Hat backed away from the scientist, feeling almost afraid of him. 

“Flug, cease this at once!”

He commanded, forcing his voice to remain loud and even.

“But why w-would I stop? It’s so much b-better this way.”

Black Hat violently shook his head.

“Flug, what the bloody hell are you talking about? Snap out of it!"

Flug shifted his filthy, bloodstained hands to his head and digging his fingernails into his scalp. He grabbed fistfuls of his hair and yanked, all but hyperventilating as his body was wracked with tremulous sobs.

“I’m sorry! I’m s-s-sorry! I fucked up, I deserve it, so please just hit me!”

Flug dropped to his knees, dirty hands reaching back towards the scalpel. He braced the metal instrument against his wrist, ready to slice all the way down his forearm. Black Hat darted in front of him, grabbing the blade of the scalpel and allowing it to cut through his hand, preventing it from hurting Flug.

“S-sir!”

Flug cried, wincing as the scalpel was yanked from his hand. Black Hat locked his arms around Flug’s middle, preventing him from moving.

“N-no no no!”

Flug bawled, struggling against Black Hat’s strength.

“I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean it! I didn’t m-mean to h-hurt you, oh God I’m sorry!”

Black Hat hushed Flug with a quiet whisper, squeezing the distressed man close against his body.

“It’s ok, Flug. I’m sorry”

Flug paused, relaxing slightly as he realized his boss wasn’t angry. Black Hat gently released his grip on Flug, shifting his arms downward to rub circles into the man’s back. A breathy sob tore through Flug’s lungs, and he pressed his face into the fabric of Black Hat’s suit and wailed. His hysterical bawling was muffled into Black Hat’s chest, but the eldritch simply drew the smaller man close and held him. Flug wept for a good long time, body wracked by tremulous hiccups and sobs. 

Once his shuddering began to die down, Black Hat gathered him in his arms and set him down on the lab’s operating table. Flug stiffened as Black Hat gently tugged on Flug’s wrist, inspecting the deep gashes that lined his arm. Black Hat retrieved a handkerchief from his breast pocket, and began to dab at the crimson splotches of blood that had pooled on his inner arms. Flug was still sniffling, and his tears were threatening to start again fresh at Black Hat’s seemingly unwarranted kindness, but he forced himself to hold it together as he regained clarity. Once the bleeding had adequately subsided, Black Hat pulled out some bandages from one of the drawers, and began to delicately dress his wounds. Once he’d finished, Flug sheepishly leaned against Black Hat, giving a lofty sigh as the demon wrapped his arms around his shoulders. They sat in silence for a full minute before Flug felt compelled to break it.

“Y-you’re not... mad, sir?”

He tried, voice raspy from all the crying and screaming. Black Hat shook his head.

“I’m not angry, but there still will be consequences.”

“C-consequences?”

Flug stuttered, lacing his fingers together.

“Yes. I hereby sentence you to 6 days of bedrest and recovery. I’ll also make sure that all of your sharp or dangerous lab equipment is confiscated for the time being.”

Flug gaped.

“S-six days?! B-but sir, I have work I need to get finished!”

Black Hat shook his head disapprovingly.

“Your health is more important.”

Flug bit his lip, swallowing down a dissatisfied retort.

“Yes, Jefecito. Thank you.”

And within only a few moments, Flug found himself nodding off, drifting into a dreamless sleep. 


	2. Peroration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff. 
> 
> Lots and lots of fluff.

Flug had already begun sneaking off to the lab to resume working again after only two days, as recovery was just about as boring as it was important. He was a little saddened to see that Black Hat had remained true to his word, and had scoured the lab of all potentially hazardous materials. That didn’t leave him with much to work with, but he supposed he could always draw up blueprints or fill out some paperwork. He spread out a large blank sheet of blueprint paper across his work desk and fished through his drawers for his white pen, and began sketching away.

He was interrupted moments later by the sound of leather dress shoes tapping against the tile floor, down the hall towards Flug’s lab. Flug froze, then shoved his pen into his drawer, trying to hide all of the evidence that he’d been working against his boss’s wishes. Black Hat entered the lab quietly, and approached Flug with his hands folded across his chest. Flug did his best to appear inconspicuous. 

“Flug, I thought I told you to rest for six days.” 

Flug’s eyes trailed to the floor, no matter how hard he tried to meet the demon’s gaze. He couldn’t possibly look any guiltier. 

“I w-wasn’t...” 

Flug sighed, deciding it was best to give up his halfhearted farce.

“I-I’m sorry sir, I just could c-couldn’t stay away from the lab.” 

He admitted, eyes still locked onto the ground. Black Hat shook his head somberly. 

“I knew you wouldn’t fare well with such a long break. How are you feeling?” 

He asked cautiously, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. Flug gulped. 

“I’m doing, err, f-fine, I suppose...” 

Black Hat leaned down a bit, trying to force Flug to look him in the eye, but to no success.

“Flug we need to have a serious conversation. About what happened the other night.” 

Flug bit his lip. He’d known this was coming, but he was hoping he could avoid it. It was too late now, however. 

“Yes, sir.” 

He mumbled in defeat. 

“What you did that night... was that... was that a suicide attempt?” 

Black Hat seemed to be having difficulty finding the right words, which was somewhat of a rarity for him. Flug simply lowered his head and shrugged his shoulders. 

“I need you to give me a concrete answer, Flug.” 

He knelt down to Flug’s eye level as he spoke, his voice was husky and low. 

“I just want to understand...” 

Flug’s posture drooped, shoulders slumping and head hanging in shame. 

“I-I... I wish I know h-how to articulate what I was f-feeling that night, but’s it’s difficult to describe.” 

His lip wobbled as he finally responded, words thick with a resigned kind of misery. Black Hat rested a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to look up at him. His non-damaged eye was shimmering with concern, not a hint of malice detectable anywhere on his features. Flug found himself swallowing down a lump in his throat, blinking to clear threat of any tears forming. 

“I w-wasn’t initially trying to do anything too d-drastic.” 

He admitted, leaning into Black Hat’s comforting touch. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

Black Hat questioned, his gruff voice honeyed with worry. His thumb traced down the fabric of Flug’s lab coat, his calloused hands gently massaging the doctor’s stiff shoulders. Flug pressed his palm into his masked face, his breathing shaky as he made another attempt to explain himself to his boss. 

“I felt so g-guilty for messing up so bad. It felt like my mind was g-going to tear me apart if I didn’t atone for wh-what I’d done. I wanted to p-punish myself for being such a f-failure, so I...”

Flug trailed off, folding his hands into his lap. He winced as Black Hat reached under his bag to grab his chin, forcing him to make eye contact. Flug found himself shrinking away from his employer’s gaze, uncomfortably shifting his head so he could stare blankly at the floor. 

“Flug, please look at me...” 

Black Hat requested, pausing to give the scientist a moment to obey. Flug peered into his eye reluctantly, fidgeting with his bulky gloves in his lap in order to ease his anxiety. 

“You are not a failure. You are so incredibly talented, and you’ve accomplished so many wonderful things. How could you possibly believe that you’re a failure?” 

The sincere compliments from his boss were a little too much. Flug felt a tear drip down his cheek, a sob catching in his throat. 

“I-I’m s-s-sorry...” 

He whimpered, leaning forward to nestle his head into the crook of Black Hat’s neck. Black Hat wrapped his arms around his middle, pulling him into a tight hug. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for. I just want you to realize how much you mean to everyone. I want you to know how special you are.” 

Flug sniffled and hiccuped, the tears dampening his bag as he nudged his face into Black Hat’s neck. 

“I w-wish I could believe you... I’d really love to be able to s-see myself as something more than an amalgamation of my f-faults. I want to be able to look in the mirror and see s-someone worthy staring back at me. But I can’t seem to c-convince myself that I don’t d-deserve to suffer.” 

Flug gulped, trying to keep his breathing steady and his voice even. He was choking down sobs at this point, not wanting to fall apart completely like the vulnerable mess he was. Despite his best efforts, however, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. 

“I g-guess that, after a while, it b-became more about h-hurting than it ever was about punishing myself.” 

Black Hat was squeezing him tightly at this point, gripping the material of his clothes with gloved claws. 

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? You could have easily severed a major artery and bled out. I could have lost you...” 

Flug’s teeth clenched together at the heartbroken undertone of his employer’s words. 

“It w-was very reckless of me. I guess I just d-didn’t really care if I lived or d-died in the heat of the moment.” 

He murmured, slightly registering the sensation of his boss trembling against him. 

“If anything terrible happened to you under my supervision, I’d never forgive myself.” 

Flug felt a pang of guilt surge through him, wincing slightly. 

“Not to trouble you, s-sir, but this isn’t the first time this has happened.” 

He mumbled, barely able to muster up the courage to admit the truth to his boss. 

“It’s isn’t!?” 

Black Hat cried, his words laced with shock.

“I used to c-cut myself n-nearly every single day when I was a teenager. I would try to stay c-clean for a few months at a time, but I would always relapse.” 

Flug confessed sheepishly, before breaking down into a fit of hysterical sobs. 

“How could I be so negligent? I would have done more for you if I had known. I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything more.” 

Black Hat whispered, stubbornly forcing back tears of his own. 

“It’s n-n-not y-your f-fa-fault...” 

Flug hiccuped, barely able to speak over his breathless sobbing. Black Hat pulled away and slipped a hand under the bag to wipe away Flug’s tears, and cradled one of Flug’s gloved hands against his chest with the other. He inspected his hand cautiously, before peeling away the oversized rubber glove. Flug’s sleeve rolled down his skinny arm as Black Hat tenderly raised his wrist upwards, exposing rows of faded scars etched into his skin all the way up to his palms. Most of them were obscured by the bandages covering Flug’s fresh self harm wounds, but Black Hat could see enough of them to understand how bad it was. 

“Flug, I...” 

Black Hat swallowed thickly, at a complete loss for words. 

“You deserve so much better than the pain you’ve been through. You mean the whole world to me, and it hurts me to see you suffer like this.” 

Flug found himself weeping louder at the softness of the demon’s words, unable to fully process his sentimental gesture. Black Hat turned Flug’s hand over with his claws, studying his blistered and calloused fingers intently. He then leaned downwards and planted a kiss on Flug’s bruised knuckles, then pressed the scientist’s quivering hand into his cheek. The demon relished in the gentle, organic warmth of the human scientist’s hand against his face, allowing his eyes to close and his breathing to grow even. 

“I wish I could love you enough to convince you how amazingly you are. I want to make you feel worthy. You don’t deserve to be in any pain.”

Black Hat planted another gentle kiss into the back of Flug’s hand, before reaching out to intertwine the scientist’s fingers with his own. 

“J-jefe-jefecito...” 

Flug croaked, rubbing his thumb against his boss’s clawed hand. Cautiously, Flug brought his boss’s hand closer to his lips, and tenderly kissed his palm. He shot the demon a tremulous smile, before collapsing against him, sobbing. 

“It’s going to be ok, Flug. I promise, I’m going to make sure you feel better. I won’t rest until you feel stable enough to function. I’ll do anything to make sure you can recover.” 

Black Hat carefully gathered Flug into his arms, kissing his forehead through the bag. 

“Let’s get you some rest, alright? Getting a healthy amount of sleep will be instrumental towards your recovery.”

Flug nodded sleepily, feeling worn out from all of the crying. He snuggled up against Black Hat’s chest, and drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did actually end up doing the follow up! This is probably going to be all I write for this fic, but I do have a bunch of other Villianous fics that I need to edit and post, so stay tuned!

**Author's Note:**

> I was debating over whether or not I should post this, but I’ve had it in my notes for a while, so I figured I might as well. I wrote this a few months back when I was having a mental health episode, so I decided to project my thoughts and feelings onto Flug in order to avoid actually harming myself. I think that writing or reading about characters going through a struggle is a good coping mechanism to combat negative thought patterns, so I hope this is helpful to somebody. I like to vent out my intrusive thoughts through writing, so if I ever post something with themes of mental illness, self harm and suicide, I hope you understand why. I might post a follow up chapter to this if it’s well received though. I know this is messy and weird, but I did put a genuine effort into it. Thank you for reading!


End file.
